Last Red Fight
by DannyPeetaHaymitchgirl20
Summary: Patrick Jane has killed Red John only to find that he had killed on of his assosiates, now Teresa is recieveing menacing phone calls that she believes is from Red John, but Patrick won't stand for it, he is finally at piece. Will he uncover the truth in time or will someone else that he cares so dearly about die? (takes place after the end of season 3) Does contain violent scenes
1. Prologue

Prologue

Tyger! Tyger! Burning bright,

In the forests of the night,

What immortal hand or eye,

Could frame thy fearful symmetry?

In what distant deeps or skies,

Burnt the fire of thine eyes?

On what wings dare he aspire?

What the hand dare seize the fire?

And what shoulder, & what art,

Could twist the sinews of thy heart?

And when thy heart began to beat;

What dread hand? & what dread feet?

What the hammer? What the chain?

In what furnace was thy brain?

What the anvil? What dread grasp,

Dare its deadly terrors clasp?

When the stars threw down their spears?

And watered the heaven with their tears,

Did he smile his work to see?

Did he who made the lamb make thee?

Tyger! Tyger! Burning bright,

In the forests of the night,

What immortal hand or eye,

Could frame thy fearful symmetry?

~by William Blake


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter one

Lisbon

It was a warm summer's day. Not quite the perfect weather to be stuck inside a stuffy court room all day. I really didn't want to be here. Of course I had been informed of what Patrick had done and so be it. He finally made good on his promise to make that son-of-a-bitch pay for the pain he had inflicted on Patrick. Even though I didn't agree with Patrick's methods, I am sure if my family had been murdered by some bastard then I would certainly change my mind from this path. But Patrick had committed a crime of revenge against Red John and he needed to face the consequences. But did I really have to be dragged into all of this. Yes I cared about Patrick but he had to face up to what he had done. But instead I had been called into court not only to watch as my friend was sentenced life imprisonment, but I had to testify, whether it be in his favour or not. He had really done it this time. If it wasn't Red John then Patrick would have to put up with the guilt of killing an innocent man.

I walked inside the court room and as I had predicted, it was like a sauna. I could practically see the steam rising in the air, it was that hot. I sat in the pew next to Wayne Rigsby, Grace Vanpelt and Kimble Cho.

"Hey boss," They greeted, Rigsby taking a peek at my shoulder which was in a sling.

"How's the shoulder?" Vanpelt asked, her eyes focused on me, as if she were trying to figure out what was wrong with me.

"Fine," I said, sharply. I just wanted to get through the day without any complications. Moments after I sat down, the door in front to my right opened. Two armed guards strolled in, followed by another pair who lead Patrick inside. He was wearing prison orange, which in my opinion, really didn't suit him at all. His curly hair shinned in the sunlight and he smiled as soon as he saw me in the crowd, which directed many scrutinizing eyes toward my direct. I didn't return his smile, I nodded curtly and continue to wait, hoping that the case would end quickly.

But I couldn't let him go to jail without saying a word, so I stood up and strode over to where Patrick now sat.

"Teresa Lisbon, CBI. Can I have a moment?" I asked, showing my badge to the guard. I bit down and chewed my bottom lip, hoping that he would at least let me have a couple of minutes with him. Just so that I could say goodbye.

He pursed his lips and rubbed his chin, "You have one minute," he said, his voice stern as he stepped away to talk to his colleague.

I stared down at Patrick, who sat there, his hands shackled and his blue eyes trained on me.

"Hey Lisbon, how are you?" He asked, beaming at me. His voice not holding a shred of nerves, it was like he wanted to be sentenced to jail. I heaved a sigh and folded my arms across my chest, "Your facing life imprisonment, you know that right?" I hissed, swiping a lock of raven black hair out of my eyes.

Patrick's smile faded just a little, "Teresa, I know. You think I don't know what I have gotten myself into."

"Patrick," I whined, "Your going to get yourself killed if you set one foot in jail. With your reputation, I bet you won't last a month."

I observed on how serious his face had now set. Rubbing his hands together and lowering his eyes so I could no longer see them under the forest of lush, long lashes, "Lisbon. Listen, I know this must be hard but I swore to myself that if I ever got the chance to kill Red John, that I would do so without hesitation. And I know the consequences and I am willing to pay them. I feel at peace Lisbon, and if I die in prison then I will die a happy man," He explained, his voice still soft as if he were explaining it to a small child, to which I took offence.

"And what about the people who care about you?" I questioned, trying to keep the venom out of my voice. He sighed, taking a glance back at the team, who were all staring away from us. As if the sight of him would reduce them to tears.

"We need you Patrick!" I hissed, making my way back to my pew. The sentence echoed about in my head, but I knew it wasn't what I had wanted to say. What I wanted to say was _I need you Patrick_.

"All rise for the honourable Judge Peterson," called the officer who was standing at the front of the court room. Everyone rose as a tall, thin man with salt and pepper hair, wire rimmed glasses and a thin grim mouth, walked up the steps. His long black robe reaching the floor where it picked up the dust from the floor.

"Be seated," he said, as he sat down, his voice carrying through the room like a clap of thunder, "Case forty four, Patrick Jane. Accused of first degree murder and on Life imprisonment..." the judge said, his voice rather monotone.

It was painful to hear in such a powerful tone. I paced my hand on my necklace, praying that they would be merciful. But I contradicted my feelings, the cop in my mind kept sending thoughts of _Jane needed imprisonment, forget about the men he had put away. If anyone was that concerned then they would put him in solitary confinement._ But I couldn't leave him to drown out there, so I thought up a plan.

"I would like to call Agent Teresa Lisbon to the stand."

I blankly stared at the judge as I ambled to the podium, placing my hand lightly on the bible, knowing that God would definitely cast my soul to hell for the sins I was about to commit.

"Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth so help you God?" I swallowed past the lump that had began to form in my throat, "I do," I answered, my voice wavering slightly. When the officer moved aside, a lawyer came up to the podium, resting her thick arm on the edge of the stand, "You are Patrick Jane's colleague at CBI, correct?"

"Yes," I answered, pressing my good hand to my side to stop it from shaking.

"You were not present when Mr Jane killed the supposed 'Red John'?"

"No."

The lawyer smirked, her lips forming a red line, "Tell me, is Mr Jane allowed to carry a firearm?"

"No, he is a consultant and isn't permitted to carrying a fire arm," I replied, wondering where she was going with this.

"Then why has he, on two accounts, possessed a fire arm, killing two people?"

I had to think back to the last time Jane had used a firearm, but the only time I could think of was when he shot Sheriff Hardy when he was about to shoot me and Vanpelt.

"The first time he possessed a fire arm was to stop one of Red John's accomplices, Sheriff Dumar Hardy," I stated, "He had a gun pointed at me and one of my team, Grace Vanpelt. Jane shot him to prevent him from pulling the trigger."

I moved my stare to Jane who suppressed a small smile.

"Can you tell me, where were you when Mr Jane shot 'Red John'?" The lawyer asked, pushing off the podium and stepping back into the free space in front of me.

"I was at my former boss' house. We had made the connection that one of Red John's accomplices' was going to attempt to take her life, so I was with her to try and stop him," I answered, clenching my teeth.

The lawyer raised her eyebrows, "And you were in contact with Mr Jane the whole time?"

"Yes," I replied, I began to squirm in my seat under her gaze. Her brown eyes melting through me to seek the truth.

"Can you recall the events that you heard on the phone?"

I glanced at Jane, seeing him nod once. They couldn't prove what I had said since I hadn't recorded the conversation I had with him. The only person who knew exactly what I said that could have testified that I was lying was O'Laughlin who was currently 6ft under the ground.

"I heard Patrick and Red John talking. Red John was provoking him by telling Patrick about what his wife and child smelt like moments before he killed them. Red John said he was going to kill Patrick..." I took a glance over at Patrick who's mouth was now set into a straight, grim line.

"I told Patrick he needed to keep him talking and that back up was on the way and to try not to provoke him. But Red John knew he was stalling so I told Jane to do whatever it took, if he tried to shoot Jane, to disarm him..."

"Ah, but your key word being disarm him, not shooting him dead, correct?"

"I wasn't finished," I said, "I was about to say that Patrick saw he had a gun trained on him and only shot Red John in defence!" I hoped my voice was strong enough to pull off the lie. Conveniently there were no security cameras on that day due to servicing so there was no proof in saying that I was lying.

Judge Peterson turned to Jane, "Is this correct Mr Jane?"

I prayed that he would say yes. Otherwise it would be my job on the line. I fixed my eyes with his, pleading silently with him, hoping he would give up.

_Please Jane._


End file.
